


and wake me up again when we're aluminum

by blchoudai



Category: Gintama
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-12
Updated: 2011-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25438858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blchoudai/pseuds/blchoudai
Summary: A drabble of sorts, centering around the things that Takasugi notices, be it about him or someone else in particular.
Relationships: Katsura Kotarou/Takasugi Shinsuke
Kudos: 29





	and wake me up again when we're aluminum

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this in 2011 and posted on LJ and decided to repost it here! I have no idea what to tag this as other than 'light angst' ... lol. There's probably some errors but I didn't feel like changing anything so here it is in all its original glory.

There was something in the way he moved, he noticed.  
  
He started to notice the way he would sit, with his back straight and hands folded neatly in front of him. He then started to notice the way he put his hair behind his ear when it fell to curtain his face. He noticed how he would reprimand him for being so quiet all the time. He noticed how he talked to others, and how quickly he was able to make friends (and enemies). He noticed the way his eyebrows would knit a little when he pulled his hair back into a ponytail; he didn't like it tied up, he noticed, he liked it down. Loose.  
  
Like the way it would slip gently from his fingers.  
  
It wasn't a sudden realization. He didn't love him. They were friends. Comrades. It was a gradual fall, now that he thought about it. He came to know it when he was bed-ridden, after a serious fight with their enemy. (He had lost a lot of blood; he felt light-headed, nauseous, and most of all, terrified. He hadn't felt that terrified before. And since then, he never had the need to.) He had lost his left eye that night. He noticed the way he would gently unravel the dirty bandages from his wound, disinfect and cleanse, making small talk as he adjusted for him a new bandage. He vaguely noticed the way he would wipe the sweat from his forehead (when he slipped in and out of consciousness) at night.  
  
"You have nightmares." _Are they vivid?_ He saw the question in his eyes.  
  
"They're nothing." _Compared to the thought of me losing sight of you._ A split second would have cost him.  
  
"I'll be here." _You can sleep safely._  
  
The next day they lost everything.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
It was snowing. He didn't care for snow, all he knew was that he hated it. The pipe did nothing to warm him, and the scarf he wore during winter was getting worn. Still, he was out for a walk.  
  
"Shouldn't you be in space." A familiar voice. He stopped in his tracks and turned, letting out a snort.  
  
"Monk, there's no harm in taking a walk. I'd invite you to join me, only I'm afraid you would try and kill me," he replied with a crooked grin. The priest addressing him snorted. When he turned to continue on his way, the monk followed until they walked side by side. He couldn't help but snicker dryly. "Should you be seen strolling next to Japan's most wanted? You're a priest, you know."  
  
"I'm not a priest, I'm Katsura." A rare laugh sounded through the empty street.  
  
"You never change."  
  
  
  
  
He noticed the way his chest rose and fell. To an outsider, it looked how any normal person would look while they were sleeping, but to him, it was like watching someone to make sure they weren't dead. The rise and fall were the only indications he had in the dark; to make sure the other was still alive. It was a gradual fall, he realized. He noticed the way his black hair shone in the soft glow of the moonlight. The way it pooled around his head as he lay, chest falling, rising; occasionally he would murmur something and a flicker of emotion (it looked like he was in pain, he noticed) would cross his otherwise calm face.  
  
He noticed he didn't smile around him anymore.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
He noticed the intervals grew longer. Years, years, years, and he would hear something through the mouth of his subordinates a quick, vague update about him. Space was vast, cold, but it was something he quickly got used to. The space pirates were a boring bunch, however, so he quietly sneaked away for some period of time to go back to Edo. He didn't care to disguise himself, he often wandered around the town during the day and the Shinsengumi were stupid enough so that he could walk right pass them. (It was the faction's top three, he noticed, that he needed to keep an eye out for; running into them could cause him trouble on an otherwise peaceful day.)  
  
He noticed that the priest was the only person he ever came into contact with when he visits. He could never walk past the priest, he noticed, without getting stopped or being given a comment. He noticed the priest often stayed in the same, general location: sitting in the middle of the bridge, hat covering his face, and his hair tied back by a thick string. A priest's staff was in front of him, cutting him off in his tracks and ultimately blocking his path (he noticed how he could have easily side-stepped the staff and continued on his way, but he wanted to be stopped, it wouldn't complete his trip back to Earth if he wasn't) so he paused. He gave the priest a bemused smirk, who in return gave him a hard look.  
  
"You get bolder every year, Shinsuke." _Why did you come back? You could get killed._  
  
"The Shinsengumi are a stupid bunch, aren't they?" _I missed you. Not._  
  
The priest scowled at him, but didn't lower his staff from where he sat. He drank in the sight of him and gave him a familiar crooked smile. "That's no face for a priest."  
  
The priest glared, which elicited a much bigger smile. He lowered his staff, bringing it back to lean against his shoulder. His smile faded, and instead gave him a rather dry look. The priest got up from his seat.  
  
"I swore I'd kill you."  
  
"So do it." _What are you waiting for?_  
  
  
  
  
  
He was there the morning after. He notices it because it was a rare thing, for him to stay, and because it was rare, he wasn't used to it. He notices that he is fully clothed, as if about to take leave. He also notices that he was staring at him intently, focusing on the bare back that was turned to him. There was countless scars on his back, he knew this, the other knew this, it's been there for a while. Still, he flinches slightly when he feels the cold touch against the scar on his left shoulder, its color a light reddish brown. He jerks his shoulder away and turns his head to give him a cruel smile. The other is giving him a serious ( _concerned?_ ) look. His smile fades and he turns and reaches over to touch the long black, hair, and pulls it over towards him. He likes the way it falls gently from his fingers.  
  
It was always the last gesture he made before he left the city, he noticed.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you!


End file.
